Well that other idea, SUCKED! So I'm going to use a different idea that can work with this title. And since I'm bored, and need to uh, shoot, what's that word... ramble? Rant? Either way I'm going to talk about a weird kid my friend Brianna ships me with.

Okay, so one time in my English class we were to write about our ancestry, and stuff, so naturally the kid decided to be weird. He said that his ancestors were from Greenland that were penguin ranchers, and when they came to the USA they were shocked at the lack of snow. And that his family were bread lovers, and he even had a quote! One of his ancestors said, and I quote. "I love bread."

OH, and near the end of the school year, we were supposed to write about our favorite memory, and he couldn't think of one, so he just made one up. It was when our teacher brought her pet horse to school and it ate Badger. He even drew a picture!

He also had a dream where he was married to Hitler.

Yup... I don't own anything.

This takes place after well the ending of the musical, without of course, everyone randomly going to Azkaban.

What possessed them to do that anyway? I wouldn't go to Azkaban voluntarily even if I had the chance to meet Ethan Jamieson.

Okay, maybe I would go, but come on, Ethan Jamieson! Ethieson!

Yup, not as cool as Zefron or Brosenthal.

It had been five months since Voldemort had seen his only friend, so when Voldemort and Quirrell turned to look at each other properly, well, Voldemort was appalled at the state Quirrell was in.

For on thing the younger man had defiantly been starved by the dementors, and his skin, which had bee na healthy shade was now almost pure white and all the exposed skin was covered in dire and grim. Quirrells once soft, and healthy brown hair was now stringy and lifeless. And his body was trembling so badly, but the worst part were all of Quirrell's scars, cuts, and bruises, and Voldemort could swear that Quirrell, most defiantly, had some broken ribs that were left untreated.

"Quirrell," Voldemort whispered softly, his voice filled with remorse. "What did they do to you?"

"I-I-I-I-It's n-n-n-not th-th-th-that b-b-b-b-b-b-bad." Quirrell whispered more quietly than Voldemort. Though Voldemort couldn't help but wonder about the stutter Quirrell didn't have during their okay-is-wonderful moment.

"Squirrel," Voldemort said sternly giving said person a stop-lying-to-me look. "You and I both know that, that statement isn't true. Look at you! You're almost at the point of being hospitalized, being as skinny as you are, not only that, but you're trembling horribly, and..." Voldemort lightly put a hand on Quirrell's side, causing him to wince. "You're hurt," Voldemort finished.

Instead of answering, Quirrell just looked down at the rocky ground and wrapped his bony arms around himself, as he shook.

"Let's get away from here." Voldemort said softly. "Do you have anywhere we can go?"

"W-w-we?" Quirrell asked looking at Voldemort with his soft, broken, blue eyes.

"Of course, Squirrel." Voldemort said. "Did you seriously think I was going to leave my best friend like this?"

At that statement Quirrell smiled softly. "I d-do h-h-h-h-have a h-h-h-h-h-house," Quirrell said. "B-b-b-but i-i-i-i-i-i-it's in m-m-m-m-muggle t-t-t-t-territ-tory"

"Lead the way." Voldemort said. And with that said Quirrell lightly gripped Voldemort's arm and they disapparated.

The first thing Voldemort noticed when he appeared in the house was that Quirrell, obviously, didn't take the time to keep it nice and tidy. There were books, and quills, and clothes all over the place.

"I-I-I-It's a l-l-l-little m-messy," Quirrell said softly.

"All the better for me to clean, my dear." Voldemort said with a chuckle at the fairytale reference. Quirrell smiled, before he went over to a chair and collapsed into it with a grimace of pain. "Do you... do you have any pain potion?" Voldemort asked. "You obviously need it." Quirrell nodded.

"I-I-In th-the b-b-b-b-bathr-room." Quirrell stuttered. "Th-there's a b-b-b-bunch o-of p-p-p-p-potions."

"Okay," Voldemort said. "I'll go find the bathroom, you just sit here and don't move." Quirrell nodded, and with one last grin, Voldemort left to go find the bathroom.

Easier said than done.

For as we all know Voldemort is a Slytherin, not a Hufflepuff. ;)

Well I'm not either, so that would explain that one day when I couldn't find my glasses... (They were on top of my head, go figure.)

But hey, SLYTHERIN PRIDE!

Everyday I'm Slytherin.

Can't do that with any of the other houses! Believe me, I've tried, but it will not work.

Now I must save this, shut my computer down, and then HOPEFULLY I'll be able to go onto Chrome.